Beginning. Middle. End. That’s it.
I joke.
The three-act structure is a simple yet refined way to examine and structure a script, story, narrative, or any compelling writing. It’s a cut-and-dry strategy that works as well today as it did in Aristotle’s time. (Yes, the Greeks gave us mathematics, odometers, and the three-act structure. They have truly always been an organized people.)
How the Three-Act Structure Was Created
Interestingly, the three-act structure was developed and used to review or analyze writing. Its popularity led to its use as a writing tool, but more on that later.
In Aristotle’s Poetics, he laid out how tragedies (his genre of choice, apparently) could be understood for the sake of storytelling. His premise consisted of three parts: exposition, complication, and resolution, also known as beginning, middle, and end to us intellectuals of the modern era.
Exposition
Aristotle termed the beginning of a story as the “exposition,” a word meaning “a comprehensive description and explanation of an idea or theory,” according to a dictionary I found on the internet.
Consider this to be when an idea for a film, TV show or series, play, novel, or even journal entry is defined. It’s when the audience is brought into the story’s world and meets the main characters.
It lays the foundation for what is to come, or at least, what we should expect. Even if that’s not ultimately true due to twists and cliffhangers, it creates a sense of realism for an audience to anchor down on or suspend belief just enough for them to feel oriented. Let’s call this Act I.
Complication
It’s right there in the name. Act II is definitely the most complex and complicated portion of any story. It’s when the plot has thickened, and the audience’s understanding of what’s real, what’s good, what’s bad, and what’s to be expected is thrown out the window.
Beautifully labeled by Mr. A. He leaves nothing to the imagination when it comes to what is arguably the most imaginative part of the story. Brilliant.
Resolution
What good is a complex story if nothing is resolved? A strong resolution allows the audience to feel like the time they spent consuming your story was worth it!
Imagine all the times your mom was upset because the book she read during the family beach vacation had a bad ending. There was no actual resolution. It’s a matter of a story coming to a proverbial dead end.
Act III must be seen as a vehicle to tie up loose ends and bring the story to a close. Cement the protagonist’s lesson that was used to trigger the climax just beforehand.
It’s important to note that a cliffhanger ending doesn’t necessarily mean a story has no resolution. Something from the story arc has certainly been resolved, but there is another, albeit large, aspect of the story that remains to be seen. Perhaps the cliffhanger is actually the beginning of a new story arc (a pre-Act I to a sequel, if you will).
How We Use the Three-Act Structure Today
Like everything else in this world, we find a way to corrupt the system for our own benefit. In this case, we flipped the analytical tool of Aristotle’s three-act structure to become the blueprint for all stories we write. In other words, we learned that if people are looking for this breakdown, we might as well give it to them.
The three-act structure is the most simple breakdown of stories today. Sure, there are two-act structures, four-act structures, five-act structures, and so on. Two acts are very common in the theatre. Four- and five-act structures are most commonly seen on TV. However, when we think about organizing our narratives in clear cut fashion, we are always going to gravitate toward the classic beginning, middle, and end.
(Unless you’re Quentin Tarantino or the Coen Brothers. For some reason, their stories just make more sense when they break all the rules.)
How to Write a Strong Act in Your Story
Acts are made up of sequences.
Sequences are series of scenes that tell a smaller story within the larger story. You can think of sequences as story arcs that make up the grand scheme of the act.
A colleague of mine explained it to me well, but I find writers are a more visual bunch, so let me paint a picture for you.
How Sequences Aid Audience Engagement
When I was earning my MBA, I took a handful of classes on branding and customer acquisition. In every one of those classes, I read several case studies. (Trust me, I’m going some where with this.)
One case study that showed up in every course was one in which the author wrote, “Everything interesting happens on an S-curve.”
For those of you who do not know, an S-curve is a classic graph of audience engagement. It shows low engagement, a period of massive growth, and then a plateau.
This applied directly to storytelling as well.
Sequencing Scenes on an S-Curve
During the Exposition, audiences may be skeptical of the story. They are judging to see if it’s worth their time.
Then the inciting action happens. Audiences perk up as then plot enters the Complication stage. Viewers get on the edge of their seat (or put their phone down).
The climax happens and we enter the Resolution. The audience begins to see what all the protagonist’s hard work achieved. They can relax a bit, and the engagement plateaus.
A twist during the Resolution of the sequence.
An Example of a Sequence
Imagine you walk into an underground bar in the middle of New York City with a rock band playing. The guitarist is soloing like crazy, hogging the mic, and generally being a nuisance for his bandmates.
The audience isn’t too thrilled with the band. They’re likely turned off by the guitarist’s antics. The band recognizes this. It’s just not a good place to be.
The guitarist decides he’s going to crowd surf and jumps off the stage into the audience. The crowd runs away instead of catching him, so he lands face-first on a dirty cement floor.
We jump cut to the next morning inside the guitarist’s home. He’s in the same position, but now in a makeshift bed on the floor of an apartment that seems too small.
His roommates are arguing about something, which leads them to storm into his room and demand rent.
The guitarist is woken up with a significant hangover, complains about being woken up, and pushes them away, saying he doesn’t have the money. However, he will have the funds after his band wins Battle of the Bands.
His roommates proclaim that if he can’t come up with the money by a set deadline, he’s being kicked out of the apartment.
The guitarist then goes to band practice to debrief with his bandmates about the dreadful gig the night before. They surprise him by kicking him out of the band.
The above story is actually the very first sequence in School of Rock. It’s comprised of three scenes, and it follows the three-act structure itself.
Breakdown of the Sequence
- Scene one provides exposition. This guy is a rock ‘n roll guitarist. He’s energetic, but people do not mirror this in their interactions with him. We can assume his life generally isn’t going well.
- Scene two complicates things. We confirm his life isn’t going well. He has two roommates (who are dating, making him a third wheel every day), and they are tired of him not having rent money. They issue a challenge to get the money, or else he’s outta there.
- Scene three provides a resolution – a sad one. Our hero heads to band practice with the mindset of getting the band in shape so he can definitely win the Battle of the Bands money and stay in his apartment. Unfortunately, there’s a twist. The band has already decided to drop him, thus leaving him up a creek without a paddle or a way to collect his rent.
This sequence is a tragedy and sets the stage for the sequence that follows. Further, it ends in a twist, which acts as inciting action for the next sequence.
Based the scripts I’ve read, as well as scripts you’ve probably read, something not many people realize is that sequences should end in twists for that very reason.
How Many Sequences Are in an Act?
The number of sequences in an act varies from writer to writer and story to story. Here is the breakdown that I like to follow in my writing:
- Act I contains two sequences that lead to the inciting action triggering Act II. The first will lay the foundation and the second will tear it up with an unexpected shift, much like an earthquake would rip apart the foundation of your house.
- Act II contains four to five sequences that lead to the climax. Two, maybe three, sequences will lead to the midpoint that triggers another two, leading to the climax.
- Act III contains two sequences. One that reveals the new norm and another that expounds upon it.
This is by no means a steadfast outline. As mentioned, the number of sequences and their position within disparate stories will differ.
I Can Teach You the Three-Act Structure
This article is meant to be a very cursory overview of the three-act structure. It goes over the origin of the format, its use as a writing tool, and provides a quick breakdown of its use in a blockbuster film.
The only way to really master the power of a three-act story is to use it in your writing. Just start with short stories that are a few paragraphs long. Learn how the three acts play with each other and set each other up. Try out sequencing to extract further value from your acts.
When you work with me, I’ll provide clarity into how your writing or reformatting of your writing brings your story into the three-act, four-act, or five-act structure, depending on what style of story you’re looking to tell. Contact me today to get started improving your script and telling your story!
Scott Duvall 